06/06/2026
Home.
There was something beautiful about watching the babies locked into The Wiz with nothing but their snacks, imagination, and each other. No iPads. No phones. No distractions.
Just community.
I watched elders wander the shelves, smiling as the movie carried them back to another time, wrapped in the nostalgia of songs and memories they have carried for decades.
And I couldn't help but think: when these babies grow up and think of home, they will remember this. They will remember a gloriously Black Washington Terrace. A First Friday on Hill Street. A warm summer evening in 2026. The laughter. The music. The stories. The feeling of belonging.
They will remember that home was a place where they were seen, celebrated, and surrounded by the beauty of their people.